


Miss Jackson

by annamidge8



Category: Miss Jackson - Panic! at the Disco (Song), Panic! at the Disco
Genre: 1950s, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mild Smut, Murder, One Shot, Original Character(s), Short, Song: Miss Jackson (Panic! at the Disco)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 04:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annamidge8/pseuds/annamidge8
Summary: Inspired by the song Miss Jackson, by Panic! at the Disco.





	Miss Jackson

Climbing out the back door, didn't leave a mark.

No one knows it's you, Miss Jackson.

Found another victim,

but no one's going to find Miss Jackson.

. . .

The hotel - if you could call it that - was nothing if not suspicious. Dark windows, chipped paint, and flickering outdoor lights suggested an equally run-down interior. The adjacent bar was dimly lit and seedy looking. Cloaked figures lurked in corners, sipping tepid beer and casting shifty gazes at one another. Every now and then you could see the glint of cold metal; a concealed gun, or perhaps a knife. Every man in the joint looked as if he'd rather kill me then say hello. I didn't test the theory. 

I walked up to the bar and sat down on the stool. Rickety and suspiciously damp... how inviting. The bar tender, a disheveled young man wearing a tattered button-up, ambled over. He seemed in no rush to serve me.

"Whaddaya want, mister?" His New York accent, which I'd become accustomed to over the months, was very thick. A lit cigarette hung from his lips.

"Just some water for now, I'm waiting for someone."

He smirked. "You ain't from around here. The west coast, right? Could tell by your accent. Anyways, the locals don't drink the water."

"Why not?"

He shrugged, taking a drag from the cigarette. "Some guy died from bacteria a few years back. The city looked into it, did nothing about it."

"Fine, I'll take a beer."

"Any beer?"

"What have you got?"

"Only one."

"Great, I'll have that." 

"Good choice," he drawled sarcastically. The man shuffled away to get my drink.

I observed the stained countertops and peeling wallpaper with disdain. I never liked this neighborhood. You could find all sorts of riffraff shuffling around on the streets. And at night, when the only light came from a single decrepit streetlamp, the distant sounds of screaming and gunshots could be heard. It was a cesspool. But she specifically stated that we had to meet here. Probably because this hotel housed all sorts of low-lives; what copper would notice one more?

The man returned with a pint of beer. Smudged glass, two inches of foam, lukewarm. I took it reluctantly. "Thanks."

"Sure." He smothered his cigarette on the ash tray and started wiping down a dirty glass with an equally dirty rag. "So what're doing over on this side of town? Never seen you around before."

I shifted in my seat. I had fully expected this sketchy character to leave me alone and skulk around in the corner; unfortunately he wanted to prove me wrong. "I'm here to meet someone, like I said."

"You meetin' some lady out here? Because let me tell you, the women in this area are a little rough around the edges. You don't want to get involved with 'em. 'Course, if all you're lookin' for is someone easy..."

"Mary is not someone easy," I snapped, setting my drink down just a little too hard. Heads turned to glare at me from across the room. 

The bartender held up a hand. "Hey, whatever you say. I ain't judging." He went to continue wiping the glass, then paused. "Mary? Wouldn't be Mary Jackson, would it? Cause she ain't welcome here. That devil of a woman's always got the cops trailin' after her."

Devil of a woman... well, he was right about that. I narrowed my eyes. "Look, are you writing a book or what? What's with all the questions?"

He chuckled. "You'll have to forgive me, mister. No one new ever comes here; you're the first interesting person to show up in about a month."

"What makes me so interesting?"

He laughed - snickered, really - eyeing me up and down. "C'mon, the expensive suit, a nice watch, what're your shoes made of? Italian leather? Not exactly the clientele I get here on a daily basis. This ain't the Ritz, if you haven't noticed."

"Trust me, I noticed," I muttered, glancing at the cracked lightbulb on the ceiling.

"Don't know why a man like you would be in this part of town. I can name six guys off the top of my head that would mug you without a moment's hesitation, and half of 'em are sitting in this room."

I looked around me. He was right; more than one shady character was watching me, no doubt with malicious intent. I needed to move. I chugged the last of the beer, reaching into my pocket to pull out a ten dollar bill. 

"Listen, you're going to pretend you never saw me here. Don't answer to anyone unless it's a lady named Janet Marcel, got it? She'll be short with blonde hair."

"Janet? I thought you was meetin' some broad named Mary? Not that it makes a difference to me." He regarded me curiously.

I slid the ten dollars over the countertop. "Stop asking questions. Tell her I'm in room number six."

His eyes lit up at the sight of the money. He grabbed the bill and stuffed it in his grubby pocket, smiling at me all the while. "No problem, buddy. I'll make sure no one else bothers you."

"Much appreciated."

The hotel room across the parking lot was just like the bar; dark, dingy, and with just the right amount of unidentifiable stains to put me on edge. I sat down on the side of the bed - I swear it dropped three inches - and took off my suit jacket. A crack of lightning and tapping on the roof told me that it had begun to rain. I stood again to pull the curtains shut across the window.

"Some hotel you've picked, Mary," I muttered. 

I waited only ten minutes for her to show up. The rain crashed against the windows and the roof, disguising the sound of any footsteps from outside. When she knocked on the door it made me jump. I opened it slowly. Her silhouette, outlined against the dark sky, was leaning against the doorframe.

"Miss Jackson," I drawled, whistling softly. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

She closed the door behind her. She was in disguise, of course. I watched as she slowly removed her dripping raincoat, sunglasses, headscarf, and wig. She threw the mass of blonde hair to the side and shook out her own dark, curly locks. She kicked off her shoes last.

"It's been too long." Her voice was soft, the New York accent much more subtle than the bartender's. Anyone who didn't know her would think she had a gentle demeanor, but I knew better. I could see the wicked light in her eyes. The woman was a demon wearing a stolen halo, a prowling she-wolf among the lambs, and I loved her for it. Gentle, indeed.

She stepped forward, pressing her body up against me and snaking her hands around my neck. The top three buttons of her dress were already undone. God, I loved this woman.

I went to kiss her, but she held a finger to my lips. "Listen, I can't stay all night. I've only got a few hours."

"What? But it's been two months-"

"I ran into some trouble this morning. They'll be lookin' for me - the cops - I think I lost them a few towns back but I can't risk stayin' here for too long."

"Trouble?" I frowned, taking her hand in mine. "Mary, what happened?"

"Don't worry about it."

It was then that I noticed her coat, now hung up next to the door, with a heavy object weighing down the front pocket. Probably a gun.

"Mary, what did you-?"

"Shh, I said don't worry about it. It ain't your problem." She pressed her hands against my shoulders, pushing me back towards the bed. 

"Are you sure?"

Mary didn't respond. She only stood up on her toes to kiss my jaw and then my mouth, slipping her hands into the back pockets of my trousers. "Take your own advice, babe. Stop asking questions."

I frowned against her lips, but my hands wrapped around her waist regardless. "You were in the pub the whole time?" I questioned between kisses.

"Course I was. Got to make sure you keep our secret." Mary pushed me down to sit on the bed. She stalked forward, like an animal after its prey, kneeling down with one leg on either side of my lap. She ran her fingers though my hair. "You slipped up. You said my name."

"It was an accident." I tried to kiss her again, but she turned her head away.

"Don't do it again. It's important that I stay hidden; now more than ever." 

I groaned in frustration, my hands sliding down to rest on her hips. "Just tell me what happened!"

She smacked my cheek lightly. "Now now, no whining. Or do I have to slip you ten dollars?"

I would've been angry if it weren't for the seductive smile on her face, or just the fact that it was Mary. I couldn't resist her. "Ten dollars? I have something else in mind."

She smirked. "Course you do."

An hour later we were lying in the creaky old bed, her head on my bare chest, her dark hair splayed out over the pillow next to her. My hand caressed the generous curve of her hip as she ran light fingers over my shoulder. 

"How's that pretty little thing you've got living at home?" she asked, turning her head to look at me.

"Gina? She's alright. Got the baby to keep her occupied." 

"Oh yeah, I forgot you had a little brat. Baby girl?"

"Mhm. You wouldn't believe it, but we've named her Mary."

Her lips, now smudged with red lipstick, curved into the wicked smile that I loved so much. "You didn't."

"Hey, it was her idea. I just agreed to it."

"I don't know if I should be flattered or scold you. You better make sure little Miss Gina doesn't get suspicious." 

I chuckled, pulling her closer to me. "Like I said, it was her idea."

We lay there in silence for another few minutes. I could feel her heart beating slowly. That heart which I loved so much... I desperately wanted it to belong to me. I told myself that it did. Really, I had no clue. But she kept coming back, didn't she? After every other fling, every affair, charade, and crime committed, she always came back to me. That must've counted for something, right?

"Uh oh, you're thinking again, aren't you? That's dangerous," she teased.

"Listen, Mary... I've been wondering... are we just gonna keep going on like this? Sneaking around and meeting up in dumpy hotel rooms? You know I've got money, I could set you up an apartment near my house. We could make it work."

"Babe, you know I can't settle anywhere. Not after everything I've done. The cops would find me and then you'd get in trouble too. You got a wife and kid to think about, remember?"

I scoffed. "Since when do you care about Gina? If it weren't for her I would've married you."

"Correction: you would've tried to marry me. I told you I can't settle down."

I felt a bit hurt. Did she feel no loyalty to me, after everything we'd done together? No persisting want to be near me? I certainly did - every second of the day. Every time I laid next to my own wife in bed, I wished it were Mary. Every time I ran my fingers through Gina's short, mouse-coloured hair, I wished it were Mary's dark tresses. I would lie awake at night, missing her smile, her kiss, her touch, her body... was I alone in this? Did she not care?

Noticing my sad expression, Mary pressed a kiss to my jaw. "Aw, babe, don't get offended. You know I care about you. I just can't stay in the same place for too long. I'd get arrested, and then I wouldn't be able to see you at all." Her smile was comforting, but she said the words too casually for me to really believe it.

"I love you, Mary."

I felt her body instantly tense, her hand freezing above my torso. "You shouldn't. I'm a bad person."

"I don't believe that. You're a good person who's been thrown into many bad situations." I took her hand, pulling her knuckles to my lips and kissing them lightly.

"Babe, you don't-"

A sudden crash of thunder cut off her sentence. She sat up in bed, the sheets falling from her naked body. "I have to leave soon."

"Wait, Mary..."

She stood up, a crack of lightning illuminating her fair skin in the darkness. I saw a few specks of red dotted around her chest and collar bone. Had those always been there?

"Where are you going to go? When will I see you again?" I looked at her pleadingly. She showed little sympathy as she tugged her dress on over her head. 

"Down south; I've got a friend who owes me a favour. As for when I'll see you again... I don't know. I messed up, babe. This isn't like the other times where I could hide out in some rat-hole for a while and the cops would forget about me. I've got to go away for a long time. A year maybe, two, five... I don't really know."

I sat up, regarding her with a pained expression. There it was; the nagging suspicion that the 'trouble' she talked about was bigger than just a robbery or some scam. I didn't want to believe it, but the way she talked about it... I couldn't pretend everything was okay.

I got up and slipped on my trousers. Mary stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself, staring absently at the floor. Her wild hair hung down and covered half her face. She was shivering. I'd never seen her like that before; she was always so cocky, so sure of herself. It scared me to see her like that. I grabbed her coat and wrapped it around her, pulling her into my chest. Her head barely came up to my shoulder.

"I killed a man. Shot him right between the eyes," she whispered.

I inhaled slowly, rocking her gently from side to side. "What happened?"

"One of my friends let me in on a plan to rob some rich guy, something that was going to get us a lot of money, you know? I thought it'd be no problem. All I had to do was distract the man while everyone else did the work. Easy, right? But things went south real quick. The others had trouble breakin' in, the timing was all wrong; I didn't know if we'd make it out. Then the rich guy, some sleazy millionaire, he got too handsy for my liking. I put up a fuss, he persisted, had me pinned down an' everything. I got scared. I didn't know what to do, so I pulled out my gun and... I shot him."

I could feel her shaking. "When the others found out what had happened, they bolted. Took all the money and left me alone with the cops on their way over. I barely made it out. Took me nearly six hours to get them off my trail. I ain't never killed anyone before, I didn't want to - I was just scared... if they find me I'll be in the electric chair by the end of the month."

"Oh Mary," I whispered, stroking her hair gently. "I'm sorry."

"It ain't your fault. I was being stupid. I should've been able to keep him off me, or maybe I should've just... let him..."

"Hey, don't you dare say that." I cupped her face with my hands, looking her directly in the eyes. Those eyes, which always held such light and mischief, looked terrified. "You were just defending yourself; you didn't mean to kill him. I don't even know if they would have you executed, maybe if you explained the whole story..."

She shook her head. "I'd rather not take my chances. It's better if I disappear for a long while, trust me. I - I really have to go."

"Mary, please... you can't leave now. I'll figure something out; I've got connections, I'll pull a few strings..."

A loud banging interrupted me, causing us both to jump. Someone was knocking at the door.

"Who on earth would be out there in the pouring rain?"

Mary was frozen still in my arms. "It's the cops, it has to be. I'm too late, they found me, I'm gonna get killed-"

"Calm down, Mary. Go wait in the bathroom. I'll see who it is."

She nodded, turning and running to the small bathroom. She shut the door behind her.

The banging on the door continued. "Alright, alright, I'm coming!" I shouted, slipping on my shirt. "Geez, people have no patience these days."

I opened the door and found the bartender, now drenched from the rain, shivering on the doorstep.

"Listen mister, I don't know if this concerns you at all, but I got a tip saying some coppers are nosin' around the area. Runaway murderer, female suspect. Just thought I'd let you know."

My chest constricted. I barely managed to nod. "Thank you. I probably won't be staying much longer anyways. Do you know how close they are?"

"Drivin' down Victoria Avenue, last I heard. Should take them a long while to get over here at the pace they're goin'-" 

He stopped. I saw his eyes widen. From fear, confusion... I couldn't really tell. I turned to look behind me. Mary was standing behind the door of the bathroom, her head poking out into view. She was frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Mary Jackson? Are you the one the cops are lookin' for?" he demanded. The man shoved his way past me, storming up to her and yanking open the bathroom door. "I told you never to show your face in my hotel again, don't you remember? And now you're hidin' in here after committing a murder!" He was practically yelling now.

"I ain't done nothing..." she whimpered, backing away from him.

"Yeah, sure, and my mother's the Queen of England! The second the cops get here, I'm handin' you over, you little bitch!" He grabbed hold of her wrist, dragging her out of the bathroom. 

"Stop!" she cried, trying to pull away.

"Hey, get your hands off of her!" I yelled.

The man turned to sneer at me. "You in on this too? I knew there was somethin' suspicious about ya. Should I be handin' both of you over to the police?"

"Wha - I'm no criminal, and neither is she!"

"Oh yeah?" He spat on the ground. "Prove it."

I moved towards him. "If you don't let go of her right now and leave, I'll knock your face in." 

He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small handle, flipping it open to reveal a switchblade. "Try anything and you're a dead man."

I made to step closer to him, but before I could do anything a deafening bang filled the room. I stumbled back in surprise, my ears ringing and my head pounding. My back hit the wall.

"Baby, I - I'm sorry... I panicked..."

I looked up to see Mary standing there, gun in hand. The body of the bartender lay slumped on the floor. Blood was pooling on the carpet. He was dead.

My brain felt fuzzy. "Mary... what've you done...?" I whispered.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with pure terror. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. She'd just killed a man... right in front of my eyes. And funnily enough, all I could do was worry for her safety. There's no way she'll make it out now.

Her eyes flickered from me to the body and back again. They narrowed slightly. In those few moments, she made her decision as to what she'd have to do. Striding up to me, she grasped my face in her hands and kissed me. The kiss was rough, fierce, longing and so very desperate. I could feel every emotion, every what if, every panicked thought that crossed her mind. She held onto me for nearly ten seconds. When she finally let go, allowing me to catch my breath, her face had an expression of grim determination on it. 

"Is there another way out of this room?"

I blinked. "What...?"

"Is there another way out?"

I struggled to comprehend what she was asking me. "There's a back door... next to the closet..."

She nodded, kissing my lips once more. "I'm sorry baby. Please forgive me." 

She raised her hand, the grip of the gun facing towards me. I barely had time to process what was happening before she brought it down, hard, against my jaw. I felt a sharp pain. My vision went spotty, flashes of light dancing before my eyes, and then darkness. The last thing I felt were her arms catching me and lowering me down before I went unconscious. 

I woke up much later. Grey light filtered in through the curtains; was it morning already? How long had I been asleep? My jaw throbbed with pain. I sat up slowly, realizing that I was on the same creaky bed in that dingy little hotel room. It took me a few minutes to remember what had happened.

"Mary," I whispered, shaking my head. My eyes widened. Had the cops found her? Had they found me? There was a dead body on the floor; surely they'd assume I was the murderer...

I turned my head, eyes scanning the room frantically. But I didn't see the body, the blood on the carpet, the gun... nothing. The room was spotless, or as spotless as it had been when I arrived. Not a single speck of red, or any other clue, to indicate that anything had gone wrong. Except, I discovered, for my suit jacket. I picked it up off the floor and stuck my hand in the pocket. I pulled out the black leather wallet; at least that was still there. But when I opened it, I found the thing nearly empty. Only two one-dollar bills, as opposed to the ten or so (valuing nearly fifteen bucks) that were in it earlier. Just enough to get me back home by cab.

I slumped back against the headboard of the bed. It was too much to process. Mary killed a man... two men... and now she was gone. I was a witness, an accessory to the crime if you wanted to look at it that way. I would have to leave undetected and come up with a good alibi. I would have to alter my appearance, just a little, in case anyone in the bar identified me with the police. I would have to explain to Gina why I'd been out here, if the police ever came knocking... it was a messy situation. 

An hour later, the cab driver pulled up outside of my house. He whistled softly. "Nice place you got here, mister."

"Thanks." I pulled my wallet out of my coat pocket. 

"That'll be a dollar fifty, mister."

Reaching into the wallet, I grabbed the two dollar bills. Before I could hand them to the cab driver, something caught my eye - something I hadn't noticed earlier. It was a small piece of paper, folded and tucked into the side pouch. 

I handed the driver the money and walked into the house. "Gina, I'm home!" I called, taking off my jacket. 

I sat down on the chair in the foyer and pulled the folded square out of my wallet. I opened it up. It was a note scribbled on yellow paper, with a red lipstick kiss printed on the back.

Sorry we couldn't have a proper goodbye. I don't think I'll ever see you again.

\- Miss Jackson

. . .

Oh, where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?

Oh, out the back door, Goddamn, 

But I love her anyway.

\- Panic! at the Disco


End file.
